


if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied

by orphan_account



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: M/M, Mysterious illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous requested: i'll follow you into the dark (death cab for cutie) layluke</p>
            </blockquote>





	if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied

Luke was starting to run out of breath.

He was scared. He was really, really scared. He grasped at the railings, his arms shaking. His head felt blurry. 

He felt a hand on his back and his eyes closed - in warmth, in frustration. It was embarrassing, a young man of his age needing help to get up the stairs. Layton shushed his noiseless complaint, leading him up the stairs and ignoring the blush to Luke’s face.

Not that he’d really be able to tell what it was from. Luke’s cheeks were always flushed these days, the rest of his face like a doll made from China.

Luke wished he could break half as easy, so the pain would stop.

He couldn't remember getting to bed or vomiting; the shivering was too violent at the time. He felt weak, and still like he might snap. He’d made it to twenty-five, and now he was falling apart. Spitting up blood, eyes unable to focus and so small against his professor’s chest. He took a shaky breath and got nothing out of it.

"I think I threw up my medication." He’s not sure what else there is to say. Should he be whispering sweet nothings, since this is the only time they have left? He watches Layton’s arm come around, rubbing his stomach like his mother used to do when he was a baby and was up with colic. It terrified him.

He didn’t feel anything.

"I don’t want to die," he blurts. He knows or at least suspects he is crying. There’s something obstructing his vision, something that is not the illness.

The Professor doesn’t know what to say. At first, he doesn’t answer. Then Luke hears a small, “I’m sorry, Luke.” He sounds so small, so broken. Years ago - maybe one, or even maybe just ten months - it would have been something to marvel at. The great Professor Layton, allowing someone else to hear or see him vulnerable. To hear him saying the only thing he can, because there is no room or reason to lie.

Flora’s out for the day. She’s been coming home later and later, speaking to Luke less and less. He doesn’t feel too put out about it, because he knows how hard he’d take it if it were she who was dying. She burst into tears and kissed his forehead before leaving today, and he understood.

Everyone knew. Today was the day. He could not be more grateful, nor more full of spite. 

Luke can feel himself fading. Behind him, he can hear Layton muttering a lullaby under his breath. Luke makes a last minute decision to turn in his arms, to bury his head in the older man’s chest. Goodbye, Professor Layton, he thinks. “Goodbye, Hershel,” he says. 

It’s the first time he’s ever referred to the man by the first name, let alone even calling him by it in his presence. There’s a shuddering, a hiccup, and he knows without looking that Layton is crying too. “This is not really goodbye,” his mentor, his friend, his love corrects him. He kisses Luke’s forehead and Luke closes his eyes.

It’s the last thing Luke ever experiences.


End file.
